That Kinda Love Just Ain't For Us
by Deya Amaya
Summary: What if Harry Potter wasn't the only weapon in The War against Voldemort and the Death eaters? What if Draco had a friend who cared more for him than the mask he wears? Would anything change at all? (Eventual Drarry, but you have to wait a lot for that)
1. Chapter 1

Title: That Kinda Love Just Ain't For Us

Summary: What if Harry Potter wasn't the only weapon in The War against Voldemort and the Death eaters? What if Draco had a friend who cared more for him than the mask he wears? Would anything change at all?

Word count: 1,135

Timeline: Hogwarts first year

Genre: Friendship

Pairing: None yet

Rating: T

a/n: I've been writing this all 2016 whenever reality became too much to handle. There isn't any violence or sexual content in it. But there are a lot of Original Characters.

x-x-x

Cassandra shivered for the 136298366th time in an hour, internally cursing herself for her wardrobe choice. The light sweater did nothing to ward off the chilly draft in the train compartment. It was fine as long as she was walking along the roads of London. Then she boarded the train and suddenly the stylish cardigan seemed too flimsy. What the heck? Was it a rule that magic trains had to be cold and drab looking?

To top off her serving of misery pudding, there was no one sitting in her compartment. Her outfit meant to be stylish was completely wasted. She might as well have worn her blanket. She sighed. It wasn't just any other day. It was the day she would start attending the magic school! The post brought by an owl had startled her family into an uproar. Eventually they agreed to let her take a shot at it. She'd spent days dreaming, planning what she'd wear, how she'd style her hair, how she'd greet her fellow magician friends *gasp* and now? No one's in the goddamn room!

Her nails were turning blue. She wondered if she should wear that heavy woolen cloak of the school uniform. But it'd only been about fifteen minutes since the train started. Would it be considered weird to change into the uniform? She felt like tearing out her hair in frustration. If only there was someone else to talk yo. Venturing out of the room was out of the question. The mere thought made her want to faint.

"rrrrrriiiibbitttt!"

What the. . . She peeked under her seat. There sat the the ugliest thing she'd ever seen in her life.. A toad. . .

"Kyaaaaaaaa!"

Cassandra jumped as was at the opposite end of the room in a second. The toad innocently stared as her heart threatened to leap out of her throat. She heard footsteps outside, and then the compartment door rattled and open. A blur of blond tumbled in. Bright blue eyes found her brown ones. "Did you scream? What's wrong?" She wordlessly pointed at the toad sitting under a seat. He grinned. "That's Neville's toad!" he lunged after it. Before Cassandra could even blink, he was left sprawled on the floor and the toad had escaped through the door. "Aaa wait!" he scrambled off the floor. He made to rush out of the door, only to jerk to a stop and flashed her a big smile.

"I'm Darren Hayes, by the way! What's your name?"

"C-Cassandra Max." she spluttered. He nodded and headed off into a run without another word. Well, at least she got to see another student, Cassandra thought dryly as she went back to her seat. She looked under her seat to make sure there weren't anymore runaway toads, and sat down. Then she froze.

She'd thought only Darren had come into the room chasing that toad. Apparently, she was wrong. Somewhere in the middle of the fiasco, another person had entered the compartment and stayed in. He was now sitting across from her, entirely too quiet for her comfort. She coughed once, looking away from his hooded black eyes. "Hello, I'm Cas-" "Cassandra Max," he finished for her. "I heard." he said curtly. He was staring at her. Cassandra felt ridiculously relieved. At least she was dressed properly. "I'm Ethan," he said simply. "Are you a muggleborn?"

x -x-x-x-x

He watched as she stilled her fidgeting, a mask of calm shrouding her visage. "What if I am?" her voice didn't waver. He felt a smile creeping into his frown. He resisted.

"Hmm. . . Then I'd ask you to be careful."

"Of what?" She challenged. "You?"

He snorted, "Nah. I'm harmless."

"So you say."

 _Nice_ , he thought. She was looking on the verge of tears but not throwing the towel yet. The girl was weird. "It's just-" he stopped, searching for words. Just what? Would she panic if he told her? Would she regret coming to Hogwarts? She should know what being a muggleborn meant. He sighed.

"A lot of wizards don't approve of muggleborns, Miss Max." She blinked, expression loosening. "Why not?"

"Uh…" wow… she really didn't know about this, did she?

"You see. . . The Pureblood Wizards don't like the mugglborns because-" "Oh! OH! It's some sort of racism?" She grimaced. "Damn. So I'll be bullied and stuff?"

 _Stuff_? "You'll most likely be bullied, discriminated, underestimated and ridiculed. Therefore, you should choose your friends wisely."

"O. . . kay? How do you know all this though?" She eyed him a little before hurriedly avoiding his eyes. "You look like a first year yourself."

"I've seen muggleborns being bullied by my- by people I know." _By my own family_ , he wanted to say. But she'll be afraid of him, then.

"Oh my. . ." She was clearly worrying now. She didn't ask. He answered anyway. "You know, no matter which house you get into, try to stick close to the Gryffindors. They aren't very fussy about blood prejudice. And be wary of Slytherines." "What if I get into Slytherines, then?" She squeaked. He snorted again. "I highly doubt it." Mirth was quite evident in his tone. She didn't take too kindly to that.

"Which house would you be in, then?" She grumbled. His smile vanished. His family wanted, _ordered_ him to be in slytherine. He probably would be placed amidst the green and silver, despite not wanting to. What happens then? Would he be treated like all the other slytherines, despised, hated like a bully? He forced a smile.

"We'll see."

x-x-x-x

Conversation tapered off and Cassandra found herself watching Ethan as he stared out the window. All evening she'd been feeling peculiar about him. Now she knew why. He didn't act like a typical 11 year old. He was too put-together, too neat in his demeanor, too... mature. Whereas she was clumsy, awkward and brash. It's like he emitted a faint glow of graceful youth.

A motherly woman pushing a cart of sweets moved past their compartment in a hurry. The clatter roused Ethan from his stupor. He straightened, yawning a little. "I should be getting back. Drac- Malfoy would be looking for me." She watched him move to the door.

"Friend?"

He smiled a little. "I guess."

 _You guess?_

"Will I see you at the castle?"

"I certainly hope so. It was lovely meeting you, Ms Max." He made to leave.

"Cassie."

He paused. "Pardon?"

She looked away, a faint pink stain on her cheekbones. "Call me Cassie. Not Ms. Max or whatever."

She didn't catch his smile. And the softened look in his eyes. "Well then, Cassie. Feel free to call me Ethan. See you."

That's the last of her she would see him, till the sorting ceremony. . .

x-TBC-x


	2. Chapter 2

Title: That Kinda Love Just Ain't For Us

Summary: What if Harry Potter wasn't the only weapon in The War against Voldemort and the Death eaters? What if Draco had a friend who cared more for him than the mask he wears? Would anything change at all?

Word count: 2,860

Timeline: Hogwarts first year

Genre: Friendship

Pairing: None yet

Rating: T

a/n: I've been writing this all 2016 whenever reality became too much to handle. There isn't any violence or sexual content in it. But there are a lot of Original Characters.

x-x-x

Cassandra remembered putting on her school robes in that lonely little compartment. She also remembered dragging her suitcase out of the train to gather with the rest of the first years. She didn't remember much about the journey to the school in that tiny, tiny little boat. Now she sat in her soaked robes, feeling like death was just waiting to devour her.

Besides her, the boy named Darren was in even worse state. He shivered continuously, lips turning ashy pale from cold. The terror in his expression made Cassandra lean over and pat his shoulder awkwardly. He turned to her with a grateful smile.

As the first years all filed into the huge great hall, the shivering was all but forgotten. The place was marvelous! Was there even a ceiling?!

As excited she was, she didn't notice as a lone figure quietly stole besides the huddle of first years. She did whirl around at the sound of someone muttering behind her and a small "whoosh sound though. Darren was grinning with all his teeth at a tall boy, his clothes visibly dry and his hair fluffy. The elder boy spotted Cassandra gaping and raised a finger to his lips. "Shh, don't tell anyone, okay?"

He pointed his wand to her and muttered again. In an instant, the deathly cold lifted off of her. It was as if a blissfully warm blanket had enveloped her from all sides. She couldn't help the grin that mimicked Darren's.

"Thanks a bunch!"

The boy smiled and silently moved back towards one of the long tables of students. Brown wavy hair, yellow tie. She decided she'd find him later and express her gratitude properly. Meanwhile, the sorting ceremony started. She was confused. The ugly, old hat was set atop the head of frightened kids her age and a while later, it yelled a house name. The scared kids ran off to a specific table. So all students from one house sat together? Sounds fun! She noted which house sat in which table. She also noted that the boy from earlier had headed to the Hufflepuff house.

"Max, Cassandra." She was startled out of her reverie. She shuffled to the tool holding the hat, feeling dread creep up her heart. She sat and the hat was placed on her head. She felt herself sweat despite the cold. An oddly soothing voice echoed in her head. "Don't be so scared, little lady. I wouldn't bite." She didn't reply, tongue frozen as it was. "Let's see," the hat mused. "Brave, and the potential to be cunning. Not very studious, are you?" It chuckled. Cassandra felt herself blanch. It was true. She never did enjoy studying much. "Hmm. . . soft heart though. . . let's put you in. . . HUFFLEPUFF!"

She felt relief wash down her spine like a tangible breeze. She realized that she'd been afraid she wouldn't be sorted in any house at all and get sent home. She hopped of the tool and whispered a muted 'thank you' to the hat, then went to join the Hufflepuffs. She was soon engulfed in hugs ranging from light to suffocating, shouted "welcome!"s and claps. Blushing and feeling ridiculously content, she took her place among the Hufflepuffs.

All around her were beaming faces and happy smiles. Then they were introducing themselves. There was another first year, shy Susan Bones, round faced and shy. She patted Cassandra's hand amicably. She spotted the boy from earlier smiling at her from across the table. She was instantly tongue tied. He raises the (huge) glass in resemblance of a toast towards her, and drank. Following her line of sight, Susan Bones chuckled. "That's Cedric Diggory. Stunning, isn't he?" _What an understatement,_ Cassandra thought.

The sorting ceremony was ongoing yet. From her perch quite near the podium, Cassandra half-listened and half dozed, not in the mood to consume anything tonight. "Strider, Ethan." Her head whipped up. She'd almost forgotten about the quiet boy in the train. So that was his last name, she mused. He shuffled up towards the hat, face betraying a minute amount of dread. He looked ready to burst at the seams. For a second he lost all composure, gulping, cheeks turning ashy, lips trembling. Must've heard the hat's voice, she thought. His lips moved, her eyes caught the movement. 'Please' and something else. She narrowed her eyes and tried to decipher. Slytherine? He wanted to be in Slytherine, or not? "SLYTHERINE!" the hat bellowed. In that moment, all the tension visibly lifted off of Ethan. He slipped off of the tool, returning the hat. Cassandra watched her as he flitted past their table. For a second, he glanced at her. Her breath caught. What the- what was he looking morose for? He seemed like he wanted to be in Slytherine.

 _Didn't he?_

 _x-x-x_

Ethan sat at the Slytherine table and thought back to his conversation with the hat.

 _"_ _Are you sure you wouldn't want to be in Gryff-" "Slytherine, please, please!" "Are you absolutely certain? You could also be in Rave-" "No no no just Slytherine, please." The hat sighed. "Oh very well then. SLYTHERINE!"_

Yes, relief had flooded him, but only for a second. He rememberd, he would have to spend all his school years in the cold, dank dungeons, in the presence of schoolmates whose presence were colder, and danker still. He'd passed the Hufflepuff table, mood darkening with every step. He'd covertly glanced at that girl, Cassandra Max, and had found her eyes directed at him. He'd looked away, but her eyes widened. She'd probably seen the storm brewing in his head. "Such an old piece of toerag, that hat." Malfoy sneered casually. "What did it take so long for you anyway? Had a heart to heart conversation, Ethan?" Ethan growled low in his throat, not in the mood to answer. Malfoy took the hint, thankfully, and went back to shitmouthing Potter. Leaving Ethan to brood about Cassandra's reaction He decided not to look at her again that evening. And so he didn't.

x-x-x-x

Lying in her magnificent four poster bed, Cassandra reviewed her surreal day. Platform ¾, the train, Darren, Ethan, The Lake, Hagrid, The Sorting, Cedric, The Castle. . . She turned on her side, heart beating erratically in her ribcage. There will be classes, and magic teachers, and classmates, and friends who lived among other magicians till now. She glanced to the bed next to her. Grace Haverly was a pureblood. So was the girl next to her, Miaka Shiro. The other bed belonged to Miaka's rowdy twin, Iruka. The bed lay empty as the girl failed to return from the common room. She thought of the turn her life had taken, of the life she had before this. "Dear God, I hope I can be happy in this school." And as the sky cleared off, liquid moonlight breaking out of the clouds, she finally succumbed to sleep.

x-x-x-x-x

At the same time, someone deep in the dungeons was writing in the flickering candlelight. Dear Mom and Dad, You would be pleased to know that I have been sorted into the house of Slytherine. I hope I can make you proud with my academic achievements soon. Sincerely, Ethan He finished writing mechanically, his brain numb with the exhaustion of pretending to get along with his fellow Slytherines. He stood to deliver the letter, only to remember he didn't have an owl. The owlery was off limits at this time of night. He scowled and put the letter on his bedside table. After slipping into the emerald silkiness of the bed, he eased himself to the collective breathing of his roommates. "Fffffucking Potter." Malfoy mumbled from somewhere to his left. Ethan nearly groaned. He'd heard the blond rant on and on about The Harry Potter while he was awake. He didn't need to know that Draco even dreamt of the boy. _How very unhealthy._ Ethan shoved his head under the pillow and succumbed to an exhausted bout of sleep.

x-x-x-x-x

 _Grwlllllllllllllllllllll_

Ugh. . . Cassandra turned on her stomach, hoping to cease the pangs of hunger. I t didn't help. If anything, it made her empty stomach ache.

 _Brrrrrlllllllllllllllll_

Fuck's sake. She'd missed dinner and she'd ran out of snacks brought from home in the first week of school. The bottom of her chocolate box lay sad and empty.

 _Rwwwwwrrrrrrrrkkkkkkkk_

She slammed her face in the pillow once, twice, then left all the pretence of sleeping and got out of her dorm room, moving past dying fireplace light. As soon as she came out into the hallways though, she felt the slap of cold against her bare skin. "Bugger," she muttered under her breath. She should have worn something warmer than a t-shirt and shorts.

Now that she was out, she realized she had no plan whatsoever. After roaming in search of warmth, she remembered something one haughty slytherin whispering to another. "The kitchens are situated in the. . ."

She could recall the conversation. Her spirits lifted considerably, she marched back towards the basement.

And she was lost.

The cold was creeping up her bones now, and she was frantically running around to find way out of the mazelike corridors. What if I'm lost and no one finds me? EVER!

She stopped to rest behind a suit of armor, feeling lightheaded from worry and cold. In the distance she heard a meow. She felt even colder, if that was possible. It was Filch, and Mrs. Norris, she was sure of it! They'll catch her and she'll be expelled! Why oh why did she ever- "Stop that Mcnair!" someone hissed from the same distance. A hoot of hushed laughter also drifted from the same direction, as well as echo of hurried footsteps.

She sagged against the wall. They were just a bunch of students. There was a possibility that she won't be punished at all. She peeked out from behind the legs of the armor and felt her happiness drain.

They were a bunch of Slytherins. Cassandra knew better than to expect anything good from that bunch. In the past days she'd had enough of their mocking her as a 'mudblood', a 'stupid bint', a 'hufflepuff'. Somehow they managed to turn the name of her house into something dirty.

She slid even further into the shadows, holding her breath. She spotted the ever so haughty Malfoy, his cronies whose names she never could remember so she called them bludger one and bludger two, sneering Mcnair, kindofsortof hot Blaise, and to her surprise, Ethan. She'd seen Malfoy's gang together, but Ethan was scarcely ever seen with them, or anyone really. It always seemed as if he apparated (that's a new magic word she'd learned!) on time for class and then apparated straight back to his dorm. But obviously that's impossible, Susan had explained. Because apparition was impossible in Hogwarts.

The other boys were apparently taunting Ethan about some. . . cat? They were meowing at him. He seemed disgruntled. And kept swatting away their hands. He heaved a dramatic sigh. "Just move along, you cretins," he groused. "I'd better make a detour to the kitchen."

Kitchen! Cassandra felt placated immediately. The other boys clattered away in a few minutes and he strode down a dark, portrait filled corridor. She stealthily pursued him.

Or she thought she did it stealthily, until he stopped in his tracks, whirled around and leveled his wand at her. She scrambled into a dusty alcove just in time to avoid a hex.

"I know enough curses and hexes to put a fifth year in St. Mungo's," he calmly declared. "Whoever you are, I suggest you come out."

Mortified, she stepped out. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Cassandra?"

She put up her hands in defeat. "I just want a midnight snack." She muttered. His face relaxed into an expression of almost amusement.

"In that attire?" She folded her arms together defensively, looking away, "I was in a hurry." He snorted, in the next second a swath of fabric was thrown into her face. Bewildered, she snatched it off her face. It was his cloak. "Put in on." He clarified.

"But. . . it. . . you. . .?"

"I'll be fine," he huffed. "I don't even feel the cold."

She could see he was being honest. He was completely comfortable in a set of silk pyajamas and- bare feet! Why wasn't he freezing yet!? He sighed in exasperation. "well, I'm going to the kitchen," he added a smirk. "Coming?

x-x-x-x

The inside of the kitchen was warm and smelled absolutely amazing. Cassandra's stomach twisted painfully. The scent of something savory lingered close, making her mouth water. Ethan was looking for something, or someone, she realized as a tiny blur materialized with a deafening crack and hurled itself at him.

"Master Strider came! Master came!" it-she-the thing declared in a shrill sweet voice. Cassandra looked close. It looked like a rag doll, only very very wrinkled and very much alive. It also seemed to be crying and smiling, and Ethan seemed green.

"Cut it out Fillie, 'm not your master" he choked out. "Can't breathe!"

Fillie immediately shoved off, yelling apologies and clawing it's own face. Ethan shook his head and held Fillie's hands.

"No need for all that," he said kindly. "May we have some food?"

"Master wants the usual?" Fillie squeaked. Oh, so Ethan was a regular in the kitchen?

He nodded and turned to Cassandra, lips curling at the corners at her expression. He led her over to a corner of the kitchen where rags and cushions littered the floor in front of a cozy fire.

"What was that?" she asked, shrugging off the cloak. Ethan looked at her in confusion, then understanding dawned and he chuckled.

"I'd forgotten you were muggleborn," he confessed, "Fillie is a house elf. A lot more of them are working in the Hogwarts kitchen. That's where our meals come from, you know."

"I always thought they kinda appeared from thin air, you know. Magic." Cassandra wiggled her fingers. He laughed at her face.

"You would think that." He added a smirk. He looked over her shoulder and waved. Looking back, she saw the house elf named Fillie standing with a huge tray. She took in the huge assortment of cookies and breads with wonder. In the middle of the tray was a couple of glasses and a jug of milk. Her nose wrinkled.

"Don't like milk?" he guessed.

"Can't drink," she mumbled. "Intolerant."

"Sorry," Ethan looked apologetic. "Give me a moment, yes?" he got up.

She watched in confusion as he left her alone with the house elf. Fillie placed the tray near her and stepped back, watching Cassandra curiously.

"Hello," Cassandra blurted out, awkward with the silence. "Have you known Ethan for long?"

The elf curled into itself, trying to become small. For a second Cassandra wondered if she's made a mistake. But then Fillie answered in a quiet voice.

"Master Ethan is very kind to Fillie. Master Ethan saw Fillie on the Staircase on the first day of term. Fillie was a bad elf, oh she was! Fillie was falling under the foot of students at the dungeon and master Ethan be saving Fillie! Master Ethan is the kindest mage alive, yes he is!"

Cassandra listened to the elf's tirade. Bemused as she was, she didn't notice Ethan getting back. He coughed once, and both hers and Fillie's eyes fell on him. He looked supremely embarrassed. He handed Cassandra another glass of milk. She frowned.

"I just told you I can't-"

"Go on," he cut her off. "Take a sip."

She looked dubiously at the liquid, but did as she was told. She was amazed. The drink was creamy, with a nutty flavor. It wasn't milk. Her stomach didn't protest one bit. She grinned at him. "Thanks!"

"Almond milk, and you're welcome." He tossed a piece of bread towards her. "Now help me finish these."

x-x-x

"You don't have to you kn-"

"Shut up."

Cassandra sulked. "I'm only trying to-"

"No need." Ethan drawled. "I said I'd walk you to your dorm and that's that. You Hufflepuff lot seem to be bullied more frequently. It's the logical thing to do."

She was quiet after that, shuffling quietly besides him. The castle slept peacefully. She watched Ethan walk briefly half a pace behind her. they'd reached the sparely lit corridor that led to the basement. She hesitated in front of the barrel. "Could you, um. . . ?" ". . . Oh, right." Ethan turned and retreated a few paces, covering his ears and looking away. Weird, she thought. She tapped the barrel. A few seconds passed and the entryway opened. She sighed in relief. No vinegar today!

"I should get back to the dungeons."

"Oh, yes. You should." She groped for words. None came. Thanks? It was nice? What?

"See you at class?"

He smirked. "Sure, Max." With that, he departed.

Hmm, surname. Well, that wasn't too bad now was it?

x- TBC -x

 _psst. . . the first year is already written so I'll be updating every week, even faster if you leave a review!_


	3. Chapter 3

Title: That Kinda Love Just Ain't For Us

Summary: What if Harry Potter wasn't the only weapon in The War against Voldemort and the Death eaters? What if Draco had a friend who cared more for him than the mask he wears? Would anything change at all?

Word count: 1,325

Timeline: Hogwarts first year

Genre: Friendship

Pairing: None yet

Rating: T

a/n: I've been writing this all 2016 whenever reality became too much to handle. There isn't any violence or sexual content in it. But there are a lot of Original Characters.

x-x-x

She was late on her first class of the Halloween day! She hurried into the charms classroom, barely making it before a tiny man scuttled in. Professor Flitwick, someone whispered. She settled herself in a bech far back, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. Ernie McMillan offered a toothy grin. She also spotted Ethan dozing off on a seat nearby. In front of her were a trio having a hushed conversation.

Cassandra's stomach rumbled. She'd missed breakfast. Feeling utterly miserable, she opened the charms textbook as the tiny man ordered.

'Wingardium Leviosa', the spell was. Cassandra vaguely remembered she'd once made a plastic butterfly float in midair simple with her thoughts. She absently flicked her wand and said the words. Nothing happened. What was she expecting?

A girl with brown hair flying allover the place was trying to explain to the redhead besides her that it was wingardium levi-OH-sa. Okay. Let's try that. Nope, still nothing.

A boy in front of her was now snapping his wand around. Slightly alarmed, Cassandra drew back just in time to witness an explosion blow in his face. She shrieked along with a few others. Thankfully, no harm done.

The expression on the boy's sooty face was comical. The boy besides him look harassed and embarrassed. Their eyes met, and he offered a stiff, apologetic smile. She returned it in kind, noticing a small lighting shaped mark on the pale skin behind his black fringe. Oh, how odd.

The tiny man looked as if he would very much like to ring his ears. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Seamus" He squeaked and cleaned up the mess with a swipe of his wand. Wow. Cassandra stared as he stomped to the other side of the room. Ethan was visibly shaking with laughter. Observing the teacher approach, he straightened and with a flick, made the shiny black feather on his desk float. What! Cassandra felt like tearing out her hair. He made it look so easy. But then, the girl in front of her also did it. Smiling, she even made it sway on the air.

"Wicked!" Cassandra turned sparkling eyes towards her. "You're so good with this!"

"Thank you." She said primly, smiling a little. She was a Gryffindor, judging from the red and gold tie. So were the two boys besides her. What had Ethan said? Stick to the Gryffindors? Good advice, it seemed. They seemed quite friendly. Cassandra sat back and tried to make her pink feather move. No such luck.

"Here," the girl turned a little and fixed her hold on the wand. "try now."

Cassandra moved the wand in the appropriate manner and uttered the spell, momentarily getting breathless at the surge of. . . something. . . through her, out the wand. The feather animated, feebly floating about half a foot off the table, then settling down again.

Did I just imagine it? Cassandra turned her eyes towards the girl, she let out a cheeky grin.

"Hermione Granger." She offered her hand.

Shaking out of the daze, Cassandra bared all her teeth, elation blooming in her chest.

"Cassandra Max."

x-x-x

Some things never change, she thought. Then she sighed, and then promptly groaned. doing anything more strenuous than being draped limp across a surface hurt everything. Madam Pomfrey had rattled off about "magical incompatibility" and "age will cure it" and words like "nascent" and "latent" and she had no brain cells awake to listen to all that. She balefully glanced at the closed door of the woman's office and carefully stood up, clutching the small vial of medicine.

Cassandra sniffed, annoyed. It was the Halloween. She'd wanted candy. But Madam Pomfrey told her to go straight to bed. She sulked quietly. Ever since she could remember, she was prone to bouts of fever, seemingly out of nowhere, for no reason whatsoever. She'd thought it'd go away now because she had magic. But oh, no. Even magic couldn't take care of something as simple as a fever. Oh, she'd ask someone else. Maybe Hermione. She seemed to have the answer to everything. It was mesmerizing.

Even as a muggle child, she'd often been sick. All those antibiotics and whatnot, and never worked because the reason was magic all along, She Shuffled along the corridor towards the basement. The Halloween feast would be underway, but she wasn't much fond of food right now. Even thinking about all that candy made her want to puke.

Oh, no. She actually needed to puke. Blood drained from her face and she frantically darted forward. There was a girls' washroom here somewh- oh! right there! She shot in and promptly bent over a sink.

after a while, her stomach stopped ripping itself out. The sirens stopped blaring in her ears. But then, she heard something else. Shuffling of feet. Someone else was here. Odd, she thought, Everyone ought to be at the feast.

"Hermione Granger?"

Granger was just as surprised. "Cassandra Max. You look terrible!"

She blanched. "Yeah. Just a flu. Don't worry about me. What happened to you, though?" Cassandra noticed the blotchy complexion of the Gryffindor. Crying, no doubt. "Wanna talk about it?"

Granger shook her head, smiling a bit. "No, but I appreciate it. I was just about to tidy up and leave. Maybe head to the feast. You coming?"

"No. Food in this stomach? Nope, nope. Absolutely no way." Granger Giggled at Cassandra's chagrin. "Oh, alright then. I'll see you later."

Cassandra left first, slipping through the door and pushing it back. She absently stepped towards the Basement, realizing quite late that the air smelled terribly putrid. "Ew! What the- Oh, Shit."

A few paces ahead of her stood the most vile creature she'd ever seen. It was huge, ugly and Cassandra had the fleeting notion that being killed by something like this would be very undignified. She had to move out of the way while it seemed engrossed in watching spiders scuttle along the wall. But her feet seemed rooted to the spot.

 _Move, legs. FUCKING MOVE!_

It saw her.

The stinky, monstrous, . . . thing saw her. It stared at her stupidly. Then its mouth split in an ugly grin. And then it advanced at her, dragging a heavy bit of wood along the floor. Cassandra felt the last drop of blood leave her face. Surely, this couldn't be the end of her life. She'd only just perfected her first spell. And she still needed to learn how to fly on a broomstick, and try out the new game called gobstones, and there was this thing called love potions that-

"Confundo!" someone hissed right besides her. A jet of warm air brushed past her numb cheek and hit the monster square on its chest. It stopped in its track, seemingly turning into a statue, its eyes glossing over like cotton. She felt a massive pull at her cardigan.

"What do you think you're doing? Come on!"

The same voice that'd uttered the spell was now urging at her, the person tugging her back into a dusty alcove. As soon as they were tucked into the small space, she could hear that monster growl and start to thump away, its weapon making a dull noise.

The vile smell also seemed to retreat along with the creature, and Cassandra realized she'd never been more glad to inhale the chilly, musty air of the stone castle. What on earth just happened?

"Well, honey, you were just being very stupid and about to be killed by a wayward mountain troll. But luckily for you, I was just nearby and managed to save you."

Oh, she'd voiced her question aloud. Also, her savior was smiling prettily at her. An exotic face framed by shiny black curls. A Ravenclaw, judging by the blue scarf.

"Hi, I'm Shiro Masquemus. Yes, from Ravenclaw. You're Cassandra Max from Hufflepuff, no? Ethan has told me so much about you!"

x- TBC -X


	4. Chapter 4

Title: That Kinda Love Just Ain't For Us

Summary: What if Harry Potter wasn't the only weapon in The War against Voldemort and the Death eaters? What if Draco had a friend who cared more for him than the mask he wears? Would anything change at all?

Word count: 1,212

Timeline: Hogwarts first year

Genre: Friendship

Pairing: None yet

Rating: T

a/n: I've been writing this all 2016 whenever reality became too much to handle. There isn't any violence or sexual content in it. But there are a lot of Original Characters.

x-x-x

"Are you sure it was okay to tell him that you're friends with a Hufflepuff? And how are you friends with him anyway? I thought Slytherins were supposed to hate students from any other house? And stop going so fast!"

Ethan sighed and paused, letting go of her hand. "I told you. I saw something amazing last night! You've GOT to see this!"

"What exactly did you see?" Cassandra asked, suspicious. She tugged the heavy cloak more securely around herself. She'd learned the importance of proper attire the first time she'd been out after curfew. Ethan ran an agitated hand through his dark hair, leaning against the wall opposite to her.

"You wouldn't understand. You'll have to see it, trust me." He sighed. "And don't be silly. The reason I can't be your friend in public is different. You're Muggleborn, and I'm from the family of a- uh- a pureblood family. It would create all kinds of trouble for you. Shiro is a pureblood, he's been my friend for years. He's okay."

"If you say so." She still sounded uncertain. Nevertheless, she followed when he started walking down the corridor once again.

x-x-x-x

"It's gone."

He sounded forlorn. She stared at the nondescript abandoned classroom. Indeed, the floor bore the mark of something that'd been removed recently, the uniform layer of dirt seemed disturbed along a corner of the room.

"What was it?"

He sank to the floor, sitting amidst the dust, curling in on himself. "You wouldn't understand. . . I wish I could see it once more. To know it wasn't a dream."

It wasn't a dream. . . was it?

He started at the gentle touch against his shoulder. She was sitting beside him, on the dusty, grimy floor. She pinned him with a steady look.

"Tell me." She said simply.

So he told her.

x-x-x-x

 _(the night before)_

He had trouble sleeping, for as long as he could remember. Always had some monster lurking in the crevices of his mind. Exploring the castle after curfew had become his second nature. By some immense stroke of luck, he hadn't been nabbed by Filch or Mrs. Norris yet. During one such exploration, he came across an empty classroom.

Moonlight shone on the pristine silvery plane of the mirror, and Ethan felt compelled to move closer, see his own reflection. He wasn't prepared for what the mirror showed him.

It was definitely himself, but at the same time he was a complete stranger. The man in the mirror was about a decade older than him. He had a dark ponytail swung up on one shoulder, dressed in a standard garb of Art Mage. The subtle cut and ornamentation were evident enough. But more than that, the Ethan Strider in the mirror had eyes that hosted a sea of calm and contentment. The shadows surrounding him shifted, and there was a hand intertwined with his.

The stranger in the mirror smiled. Ethan turned away and ran.

x-x-x-x

He'd went back to his dorm, narrowly avoiding being detected by Peeves. After giving himself some time to cool down, he'd thought about the bizarre event, the ethereal mirror, what he saw. He'd attended the classes in a daze, ate next to nothing and poured over any book he thought was relevant.

Then, right before Madam Pince was about to throw him out of the Library, he'd found what he'd been looking for. A reference to the Mirror of Erised.

The inked version failed to even grasp the elegance, the allure of the actual mirror. It was true, then. He'd actually seen the mirror, seen his heart's desire. But it can't be. It can't be. Ethan shut off the book and returned it back to the shelf. It wasn't true. Even in the privacy of his heart, he couldn't harbor the desire to become an art mage. It was too. . . unheard of, for a scion of the Strider family. Too common, too unusual, too eccentric.

And yet, it was exactly what he desired, he sighed as he accepted that after hours of staving off the thought. The thought scared him more than any monster ever had. Shiro poked and prodded, but somehow Ethan clung to the memory, hid it, didn't even utter a word about it. As if doing so would take away the memory. Also, Shiro was too clever for his own good, damn his Ravenclaw brain. At the first mention of the mirror, he would wheedle everything Ethan had seen, heard and thought. He didn't want anyone to know his deepest, darkest desire, thank you very much.

For a brief minute he wondered if it was normal. If this was what most people would desire. Wouldn't family be more important? Or a future, maybe a career. Some people saw themselves in a vault at Gringotts, surrounded by gold. Why couldn't he have a desire like that?

Agitated, he remembered it was Friday night. Cassandra would be doing her arithmancy homework down in the kitchen, usually with his help. He contemplated just leaving to visit the mirror. But he hesitated.

Maybe she'd understand his desire to be . . . different. After all, wasn't she very different from everyone she'd grown up with?

x-x-x-x

The house elves gave her looks of pity as she stuffed her face in a pillow, the half-done homework lay forgotten by the blankets. The symptoms of her unfortunate sickness hadn't gone away yet, and she slumped in front of the fireplace. She'd almost made up her mind about sleeping right there when there was a very loud bang. It jarred her out of stupor. But there was a hand pulling her out of the warm cocoon. She resisted feebly.

"please, come with me. You must see something." He'd said, and seemed deaf to any of her protests. They'd set off to find the mirror then.

x-x-x-x

 _(The present)_

They sat in the shifting shadows for a long time after he'd finished talking. His thoughts skipped around, colours dancing behind his closed eyelids. He was tired, and yet he felt oddly jumpy.

She broke the silence first. "You know, Ethan. . ."

"Don't use my given name." He sighed distractedly. She was so inappropriate all the time.

She ignored him. "Do you recon they moved it someplace nearby? We could look for it. The mirror, I mean."

He frowned. "I don't think they'd keep it somewhere we could find it easily." Better to just forget about it and-

"Oh come on!" She stood up and stumbled a bit, looking pallid. "Let's just go and look. It couldn't hurt to look, surely."

"Surely, yeah. Except we could get caught and get detention." He said Dryly.

That didn't stop her from dragging him off. And checking all the unlocked classrooms. And almost falling asleep on her feet. And chattering incessantly about the time she'd wanted to become a princess, an air hostess, a pilot, a warrior, a model, a millionaire, an angel and some other stuff he couldn't even remember. In the end he had to escort her to the Basement (again). By that time the horizon was growing pink and Ethan felt a smile tug at his lips as he succumbed to the pull of a deep, exhausted sleep.

x-TBC-x


End file.
